Shadowbourne grinned when the Wolf pulled a very large hand cannon and pointed it right at him, "Oh HO! The Little puppy has a big tooth!" An electronic whine causes him to glance back with his peripheral vision, "And the pup that wimpered away has found his big tooth!"

"Get your filthy magic off my brother, demon!"

Sliding back a step, Anton emits a low growl as the demon within him struggles to be released, two targets, twice the fun. Just as he was about to pounce, the whistle of an incoming high speed object followed by a rippling impact forces him to readjust his balance.

"Altruist..." the name is hissed through now clenched teeth, the demon now raging against the restraint. Anton's will pushed back against the monster, forcing it back into its dark corner. "Hey Buddy, coming to play? It was just two wolves...I got..."



His head snaps around and he straightens from the crouch he had been in. Roller's tone brooked no challenge.

...$##$@$%$%&^^^$!!!!$%$$..."OK, ok...." with a simple shrug, Shadowbourne's shadow shrank back down, though it was pantomiming struggling against something pulling it back. A clear indicator that their was something more to the silhouette than at first perceived. Looking over at Altruist first then to the other two, "Boss Man says play nice. So...playing nice, What do you have in that bag there?" Though the tone was lighter, there was an unmistakable note of suspicion in his voice, clearly directed at the wolves.

The Wolf with the cannon ("Locke") loses some of the tension in his stance, but is clearly ready to shoot if he needs to. The Wolf on the Mecha ("Flint") eyes Shadowbourne nervously, blinking rapidly as the shadow-magic fades. He takes a step back, stumbles a bit.

He speaks (into his communicator, but his voice is clear enough). "Got hands, boss."

---

Down at street level, the skinny hero ("Rigger") is joined by the woman from the office ("Halo"). However, she had no sooner touched down, ready to assist with the goo or the pilots, when Aleph's voice came over their communicators loud and clear. "Rigger," it said, "We have hands."

There's a moment.

And then both of them are surrounded by a bright corona of orange light.

Halo looks around, looks up, and then at Rigger, "No! What? No! Not yet! We promised to..."

---

Up above, Aleph watches as Doc Roller gives orders, nodding.

He cocks his head to the side, as though hearing voices. He says: "Rigger, we have hands."

He's suddenly surrounded by an orb of orange light.

"Doc Roller," he says, "On behalf of the Oberron Corporation, the Grey Wolves hereby cede the battlefield."

---

And there's a flash of blinding light (five flashes actually) and the Wolves are gone.

---

Leaving five broken or otherwise disabled mechs on the street (in the street, in some cases). Three of the 'pilots' remain attached to their inner workings (Rigger having removed two with one of his devices). One of the Mechs has a (now empty) heavy lockbox on its back.

The black substance is already starting to settle and break up and separate from the water around it.

"That guy is a real asshole."

I don't undersstand tthhe mysstic mumbo-jumbo, Shsheetssumon, the reptilian man says as he comes to an abrupt stop.  Though he has stopped, the air he has been moving does not, blowing past in a heavy breeze that ruffles some of the Asian hero's costume.
What?  Iss he ssome kind of mutasshhion?

Altruist nodded as they left, and didn't look at Shadowbourne. "My words were not aimed at you. You have benefit of the doubt. We'll sort out who's in the right later. Let's get these pilots out now. I have already failed one of them."

Now that the danger had passed, Altruist reminded himself that there was no privacy while on the job, and kept his invulnerable front up. The people must not know he could be hurt yet. So for now, he did his best to present.

For now, he had pilots to rescue, then he was going to try to get a sample of that black stuff in a container that could hold it. He'd have to be careful, though. Altruist was not a fool when it came to exposure to unknown potentially corruptive substances, and if he were ever compromised himself...

Well, he hoped Shadowbourne was up to the task.

OOC: So, rescue the "demonic" pilots, then find a glass container or something and store some of that liquid darkness or Phyrexian Oil or whatever the hell it is.

Examining the mech, Shitsumon utilizes Dakkokki to obtain access to the pilot's compartment. With his ability to speak and understand any language, he proceeds to ask the pilot what help is needed and how he and his comrades might save them and their comrades.

Doc will continue to try to acquire some sort of tanker to contain as much of the black liquid as possible by vacuuming it up.

He will also contact local LEOs and his superiors. He will inform them that charges of theft, interfering with an active crime scene, and obstruction of justice will be leveled against the operative of the Oberon Corporation.

#"Team, next time you see any of these guys, barring endangering civilians, you bring them in. As far as I'm concerned they are suspects. Friendly cooperation is off the table."#

Doc Roller sends messages up and down the various chains of command he has at his disposal. His complaints, and charges, are taken seriously, taken down, and noted. The Oberron Corporation is a giant in Bay City, with tendrils dug deep in tech, research, pure science, medical, and no few serious philanthropic enterprises. If the Grey Wolves did had the authority to speak on the corporation's behalf, then the legal side of this must be complicated.

Meanwhile, Altruist manages to secure a small sample of the black substance, even as it starts to separate and dissolve and discorporate into the concrete. He used the container he could find on short notice: a coffee cup. Not exactly Bill Nye approved. But at least it was clean.

Probably be a good idea to get that somewhere more secure and more sterile fast.

Shitsumon set himself down in front of one of the pilots and asks what can be done.

The creature starts speaking a language spoken nowhere on earth. It is speaking Infernal, the language of the demon realms, and only the magic of Dakkokki is allowing him to understand.

To his question ("How can we help?") the creature spits out a truly impressive slew of profanity and suggestions for helping that range from impossible sex acts to the consumption of any number of ill-advised substances. And then it recommends using the substances to perform additional sex acts, not all of which are impossible, but most of which would be difficult and/or painful.

As it speaks, Shitsumon can hear the mech around it powering down. Motors rev slower and the hum of the engines grow lower and lower. As this happens, the veins in the arms of the creature, around the inserted probes, starts to swell and turn blue. As though the machine is pumping something into the creature.

All around them, the city starts to creep back into the street now that the danger has passed. Police and firefighters and paramedics start to swarm around, herding people to and fro and cordoning off the area.

One of the lead cops sidles up to Gecko and pauses. "What the heck happened here? Is it safe for my guys to be here?"

#"I have a sample, and am returning. The container is not stable. Get another one ready, if possible."#

He flew up to Doc's vessel, and awaited boarding privileges, holding his coffee cup of doom like the world's most surreal advertisement. #"On a more casual note, but business related: are we certain we wish to fight with these Wolves? When they are actually helping to save lives, they are quite effective, and I'd rather not stop that. They are like most people - selfish, not evil. Their employer is likely the problem. The Wolves themselves seem to have an inclination to honor primarily, and being humane second. Deliberate selfishness doesn't seem to be their nature, based on my brief encounter with them."#

Gecko looks at the officer and shrugs.  An attack by alien-appearing robotss pilotted by sstrange creaturess.  No idea what tthhe motivve wass.  He looks around at the scene, and shrugs again.  It sseemss ssaffe now.  But, iff you ssee what lookss like a black oozze, cordon it off and call uss.  We don't know what it iss, but we don't want anyone to take any cchhanccess.
It is hard to tell, because the scales of his face make expressions difficult to see, but taling with a police officer conversationally strokes the reptiallian man as odd.  Before, he had been an unsanctioned vigilante and always had to look over his shoulder to avoid arrest.  Now, not so much apparently.
He looks over at the damaged building.  I hope their inssurancce iss paid up and up -to-date.

OOC Note: Doc is actually standing on top of the Mark 3 controlling it via remote. He is not inside of it yet.

#"Let's get the live pilots searched, disarmed, and into custody and the dead ones into safe storage!"#

#"Interrogation can wait until this situation is stable."#



Doc transferred the sample to one of the micronized portable lab containers attached to his body armor. Instead of responding to the Altruists statement he instead looked closely at the other man.

Opening the faceplate of his helmet he spoke directly and off the radio.

"You're hurt. How did that happen?"

Shitsumon continues to question the creature in the mech, more curious than anything else. Through his mystical translator, he tells the pilot, "that's fair enough. I'm going to assume you were conscripted to pilot this thing, but was your intent to steal whatever was in the box, or were you retrieving something stolen from you in the first place."

As he receives the pilot's reply, he radios, #[Language unknown: Estortous adwiec ll meol antingove ck ca eveito, o avelo usicev al rom est t. Ndio thind thsiprta urri redwerthi sefi thoaveestenc ne icndck oer tovir oninee ng his sta u lareenectughive iouanthasichith antsi mima'arck ssin plha hisectthe lionsiusul. U en ati ro patho utactock ck ur tipras, Ll rifowe ioniouons tiil si niout even ou beat'promntun. Ousonsres con A nillou esllol thuoulwershevorrut oul outaveint mi wil fisesatrer o ousio nemo.]#

Altruist shrugged. "I'm healing quickly enough. I caught a building improperly. My strength has limits. As far as I know, everyone inside survived. One of the wolves assisted in holding the building up. Freed me up to convince the other two not to continue bothering Shadowbourne, although I don't think I was a factor in their exit."

"If it is all the same to you, though, I'll be in this form about five more minutes. Make sure no complications have arisen. Then I'll return to Sam. I'm curious about this company they work for."

As the wolves disappeared, the demon within Anton began to scream and howl. It's prey was vanishing right before their eyes. That was on the inside. On the outside, Shadowbourne blinked once...very slowly. Then a couple more times...with a couple of beads of sweat.

He heard some exchange, kinda noticed Altruist scooping up some of the black goo...then he heard Infernal. Without really listening, he understood the gist of what was being said. It was the name, rank and serial number Infernal style.

That was when he became aware that the mechs, while sounding like they were powering down, they were still functioning somewhat with the pilots.

With an abrupt spin, he quickly steps up to where Shitsumon and the pilot were, " Shitsumon...you might want to step back. They are still receiving something from the mechs." Even as he states that, he steps closer, trying to sense if the fluid pumping into the Infernal Pilots is mystical in nature.

19:35, Today: Shadowbourne rolled 61 using 1d100.  Sense Supernatural 80%.

Continuing to use his ability to speak any language, Shitsumon says, [Language unknown: ofse ati utei ersma si ch ati U nt, of K caivla ta butleseauast ing werhi offiteek ss nohadi utwhnofi ugh enc oulionouswhi leompo ul pamiiv inmoiofo, lavir it o whi setartion waomolit p in. Ch areiveive ng trsaur lalipe io li areyinund ekunlasi, san E tra k reetieca.]

"Dare ka ga sore o shimasu ka?"^*

Shitsumon returns his attention to the pilot, watching carefully and looking for a way to extract the creature from the machine.

^*[Language unknown: Iona icaoreoer we hire?]

The police officer that was talking to Gecko smiled nervously and backed away. He was still a little uncomfortable in the presence of the strange pseudo-human, it seemed. He started down the street, giving orders to his officers to cordon off the street and sidwalks and anywhere they saw black ooze. But even as he goes, most of the ooze has already broken up and dissolved.

Altruist, in the Mark 3, manages the handover of the precious coffee-cargo to Doc, who seals it up. Inside is a clear fluid about the viscosity of alcohol and small specks of black. Not many, and even as they watch the specks continue to break up and break down.

On the street, Shadowbourne is certain these are Imps, lesser demons from the lower realms, weak and easily summoned and controlled by arcanists, often used to carry messages and do small tasks. Using them as mech pilots was new in his experience.

Whatever it was that was being pumped into their veins is indeed magical in nature. If he had to guess, he would say that Shitsumon is correct and the mech is powered by the ichor of the imps. However, it is clearly being altered or changed in some way within the machine at this moment, as the imp shows increasing distress.

The block ooze also seemed to be related in some way.

Similar cries of pain and anger (and long strings of curses and oaths) emerge from the other two 'manned' mechs as well.

OOC: if someone wants to try to remove an imp/the imps from the mechs, I'll need some kind of roll. This is high-tech, but there's a magic component as well. Unless, of course, if someone wants to use a more direct method...

[Language unknown: "Ica ee prasek iepawe olmo adteer n."]
Once again, Shitsumon employs Dakkokki and the whirling blade begins to sever the lines pouring poison into the demon. As he works, his face twists further and further into an expression of nausea. [Language unknown: "Urai m re podice! Omonch we ndyin roonur caeini, unous outil la ompl hochpe!"]

Dakkokki slices through the steel cables with relative ease. Certainly no mortal blade could have done it. Each slice is followed by a spray of that thick black ichor and a scream of pain and profanity from he pilot (although, they're doing so much of that, it's hard to tell why at this point).

However, after the second cable is cut, Shitsumon notices that his sword seems to have a permanent black stain along its edge. About two inches long, and half an inch wide. The blade does not feel undamaged, but the stain remains.

And there are six cables left for this pilot.

"The Oberon Corporation is my primary interest as well."

#"I'll be one the ground working the crime scene if anyone needs my assistance."#

#"Shitsumon will conventional restraints serve for the pilots?"#

Altruist powered down finally, and watched the ooze slowly break down before admitting something to Doc. "I know nothing about this kind of science. If it involves tech, I can probably figure it out, but anything outside of practical chemistry to my trade is beyond me."

He cracked his fingers, and looked around the room. "I'm going to need a mesh cage or the equivalent thereof, and some expected near immunity to being tracked if I'm going to research them here. Otherwise, I'll have to look into them elsewhere and another time. But I will discover anything worthwhile about them."

He was wondering if they hadn't fallen on his radar before, though. Something that big, and involved with stuff like this? He'd probably run into them before without realizing it.

He began setting up for computer work. "Man, though - that hurt. Not used to straining myself. I didn't even know I could do that! It hurts, but it's an awes-"

He stopped himself, realizing something, and leaned away from his computer, preparing to return to form. "Hey, is someone getting those vicious little guys out of the mechs? Because I kind of got distracted, and assumed that was being dealt with in my urge to bring things back to you. They've likely got some kind of kill switch in them that I, uh, admittedly may have failed to recognize for what it was when I first saw it, and I'm not really a demon specialist, even though I am somehow expected to fight them and their servants according to my master. I'm more of a 'evils of man' type."

Stepping back from the mech and sheathing his blade, both to indicate he is no longer cutting and to hide the small stain, Shitsumon responds, "I do not believe restraints will be necessary. The creatures will tell us nothing and are likely to be eliminated by the mechanisms they pilot."

"I doubt anything but Dakkokki would serve to release them, and doing so seems to effect my blade. I'll not have it affected."

With a polite nod to the 9fficer, Gecko understands his discomfort.  It has taken him awhile to become comfortable with his new skin as well.  And even that is not one hundred percent of the time.
His zips over to Shitsumon's location, stepping up on the robot just in time to the warrior step back after sheathing his blade.  He looks at the creature fixed into the robot body, and wonders if his powers would even work on it.
Reaching for the knife he carries, he draws it and pricks his finger.  Adhering to the robotic suit, he kneels down next to the imp as he squeezes out a sizeable bubble of blood.  He then lets it drip onto the imp, and watches for the reaction.

If his Divine Healing power works, then:
17:47, Today: Gecko rolled 17 using 4d6.  But, take SDC damage.

17:46, Today: Gecko rolled 18 using 4d6.  ...heal SDC.

17:46, Today: Gecko rolled 11 using 4d6.  Heal Imp of HP and... 

The drop of blood is absorbed into the creature's hard, scaly skin. Instantly the blue lines from the cable implants start to recede. The imp calms slightly and hurls some abuse at Gecko.

Shitsumon, who can understand them (and maybe wished he didn't) heard it clearly: "[Expletive] you and your [expletive] help you ugly [expletive] freak. I didn't [expletive] ask for it and I don't [expletive] want it and you'll get not a single [expletive] Service from me in [expletive] return!"

Behind them, they can hear the cries of the other two imps quiet and quiet and fade until there's nothing. Now there's just this one.

They can both see the cables in its arm, nearest where the blood dripped, start to push itself out of its skin, trailing dozens and dozens of thin wires.

With a nod, Shitsumon engages the creature on its own terms. Using the creature's language, he says, "did you receive appropriate payment for this service, or should someone be indebted to you for it? It appears whoever engaged you intended you to be unable to extract payment after the fact, as you're the only one of the drivers remaining. It is my duty to dispatch you back to your place of origin, as you do not belong on this plane, but if you wish to return to your employer and demand payment I would defer your dispatching and follow you to explain to your employer the pending modifications of his processes."

Gecko gives a small grin as the cables begin to extricate themselves from the demonic creature.  Sseemss like a very upsset creatture for being helped.  It'ss not like I'm requiring a favor in exxchchange.  He shakes his head slightly as he watches the vocal exchange between Shitsumon and the creature.